


get down on your knees and pray

by carrotstix



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence & Gore, canon character death, comic!Sophia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:24:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrotstix/pseuds/carrotstix
Summary: When Negan forces her and the rest of her group onto their knees, Sophia is forced to sit between her pale, sweating mother and a soon-to-be-dead man as she witnesses yet another tragedy within her young life.(sad, isn't it, because she's only fourteen years old and yet, she's watching a parent die for the third time.)or, I attempt to mix the comics version of Sophia into TV show.





	get down on your knees and pray

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this awhile ago, so it’s lowercase and second person, but it probably won’t be this way in the future if I wrote more. Basically, I wrote the last couple of lines and put this up, because I love Sophia and I loved her relationship with Maggie in the comics, so take that.  
> the title is a lyric from crying in the chapel by elvis presley

they force you onto your knees, maggie on your left and abraham on your right. your mother is shaking, pale and sweaty, but you make eye contact and she gives you a look, not necessarily one of reassurance, but it's comforting anyway, in an odd way.

this man, negan, is talking. and talking. he won't stop talking, shouting and laughing about how he's going to kill one of you, pointing his bat from person to person. your chest goes cold when the tip comes close to your maggie’s face. he must notice your face change when he does, because he gives you some sick, sadistic smile, turning it onto you.

“this kid yours?” he asks her. she doesn't move, but the look in her eyes shifts, clearly panicked. he laughs, moves the tip of the bat closer to your face. “how old are you, kid?”

you don't answer, and this must annoy him, as he presses the bat against your cheek. you wince, feeling it cut into your skin. “answer me when i speak to you,” he demands.

“fourteen,” you reply, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“your mama looks a little too young to have a teenager, doesn't she?” he says, grinning. “what is this, some kind of adopted orphan situation? how cute.”

he starts moving around the circle again, trying to decide. he stops on nearly everyone. rick, carl, your mother and father, you, over and over until he moves from his speech to playing a game.

you all watch, horrified, as the bat points and points until it comes to a stop and negan smiles. abraham, despite having his death painted out so clearly in front of him, keeps his head high and his back straight, looking negan straight in the eye, unafraid.

he goes falling to the ground the second it connects with his skull, and then suddenly, there's blood. you can feel it, warm and wet, spraying across your face. you can't help the gasp that comes flying out of your throat as you feel blood splattering against your skin, your nose and hair cheeks. god, you can taste it in your mouth.

it paints your clothes, too, as he brings the bat down again and again, until what once was abraham’s head became a bloody mess of hair, teeth and brain. you can't even look at him.

negan, despite his spiel about not wanting to hurt anyone, looks ecstatic as he leans in, taunting rosita, who shakes and cries silently but doesn't say anything.

you’re caught off guard by daryl, who jumps up and lunges for negan. he's grabbed before he can do anything, wrestled to the ground like a spitting dog and dragged back into line.

negan is clearly annoyed, and he starts back in about consequences. you're still reeling from what he did to abraham when you realize that he's going to kill somebody else, and you're completely floored when he turns around and slams the bat into glenn’s head, not once but twice.

your eyes go impossibly wider, and a choked noise comes out of your throat, then a scream.

_“dad!”_

your mother cries out beside you, and the two of you stare, horrified, at the mess glenn’s face has become. red drips down his cheeks, and one of his eyes has come out of his socket.

“m-m-ma-m,” he croaks, unable to form more than a simple sound. “s-s-s-so… mah-mah-gie, fin-find you.”

you can't hear anything negan is saying. you only see your father, crumpled to the ground as blood spills around him, until he looks less like your father and more like the remains of abraham. you can't pull your eyes away until negan is looming over you once again, still bearing that sick, sadistic smile he's been wearing all night.

“he was your dad, huh?” he asks you. “jesus. sorry, kid.”

“you don't look very sorry,” you reply, your voice soft and trembling.

negan tilts his head, leans in. “i'm not, really,” he whispers in your ear, and he grins at you again before moving on, dragging rick into an rv and leaving the rest of you still kneeled on the ground with guns pointed at your heads.

your mother sobs, shaking her shoulders and you almost don't even notice that you're crying, too. you look over at carl and you can see a mess of emotions in his eyes: confusion, pity, fear.

everybody else is faring about as well as you. aaron is curled in on himself, openly weeping, and rosita stares blankly at the spot the rv used to be. sasha still has a shell-shocked look in her eyes, both horrified and disbelieving.

you want, so desperately, to throw yourself into your mother's arms and cry, but there is a man behind you with a gun at your back and you have been ordered not to move.

you decide you don't care as the sun is starting to rise in the sky, and you start crawling for maggie. you're only on your hands and knees for a second before somebody is gripping you by the collar and pulling you backwards, violent and rough. you hiss in pain but you don't struggle, allowing yourself to be dragged back into place. the hand holding onto your shirt never moves.

the rv comes back into your sight, the only noise that breaks through the morning air. when the door opens, negan comes out dragging rick with him.

“why are you holding onto our friend there?” he asks, looking behind you, presumably to the person attached to the hand restraining me.

“she's a squirmy little worm,” the man replies. “tried to crawl over to her ma there.”

“oh, let her go,” he says with the wave of his hand. “we all want our mamas sometimes, eh?”

you fall forward when they let you go, face nearly hitting the dirt. even though something about it sickens you that you had to be given permission, you lunge forward and throw yourself against your mother in a heartbeat, pressing your face into her neck. her skin is slick with sweat and she's shaking but she pulls you against her anyway.

“mom, mom,” you mumble, feeling your tears pick up again as she runs a hand through your dirty hair.

“i know, i know,” she whispers. “it's- it's going to be okay.”

she rocks back and pulls you with her. knowing that you’re being watched keeps your sobs lodged deep in your throat, but there are still hot tears in your eyes.

you decide right then and there, curled against your mother’s shoulder with her nose buried in your hair, abraham's blood dried on your face and your father laying dead on the ground several feet away, that you will never forget this.

and you will _not_ let negan get away with this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, find me i-am-not-carrot.tumblr.com  
> Expect more Sophia pieces from me in the future!!


End file.
